


Centered

by generalsleepy



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Human Furniture, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 06:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14868671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generalsleepy/pseuds/generalsleepy
Summary: When Raoul is upset or anxious, Hamid knows how to center him.





	Centered

Soon after entering his home, Hamid noticed the sheet of paper on a table. He took off his coat and hung it on the rack, before picking up the sheet. He quickly read the Farsi message.

_Kadivar Agha. I have left for the day. The house is in order. I should return at 9:00 PM. The Vicomte de Chagny is in the sitting room. Darius._

Hamid felt a rush of delight and excitement at the name, rendered in the Latin alphabet. Raoul was there, just a few meters away from where he stood. He gave a fervent, silent thanks to Darius, whether his day out had been planned or decided on based on Raoul's arrival. He folded the paper, placed it in his pocket, and then forced himself to walk casually into the sitting room.

Raoul was sitting in an armchair. The moment Hamid stepped inside, he jumped to his feet, then immediately dropped to his knees.

“Hello, Raoul,” he said.

“Hello, Papa.”

Ah, so they were starting right away. Oftentimes, Raoul needed some time and coaxing to adjust to the right mindset, after a day spent acting the role of the young nobleman for the benefit of high society.

Hamid crossed the room in long strides to stand in front of Raoul. He put two fingers under the boy’s chin and tilted his head up, just a bit more roughly than necessary.

Hamid settled into his armchair. "Go to the kitchen and bring me a cup of tea, dearest. You know how I take it."

"Yes, Papa." He nodded respectfully, then hurried to the kitchen.

He watched Raoul leave. The slightest things about even the way Raoul moved revealed his youth. Hamid hadn't had that lively spring in his step since he was in his early twenties.

Yet, Hamid also detected something in his bearing that suggested anxiety. He seemed jittery and worked up. Hamid's first task was to calm him down—get him centered. He knew by now exactly what Raoul needed to help him.

By the time Raoul returned, Hamid had started reading a newspaper. Keeping his gaze respectfully lowered, he placed tray of tea and saucer and jug of cream on the table, then got back on his knees. On some days, Hamid would have Raoul get on all fours and use him as a table or footstool. He wasn't going to go that far today.

"Thank you, dearest."

Raoul's face lit up, as it always did when Hamid praised him.

Hamid folded up the newspaper and placed it on his lap. Slowly, deliberately, he picked up the cup and saucer. "Hold out your hands. Flat. Palms up." Raoul did as he was told. "Together." Raoul obliged, pressing his pinkies together, forming a plane almost as level as the silver tray.

Hamid took a sip of his tea, not taking his eyes off of the boy kneeling before him. It was perfect: hot, but not scalding. More importantly, the saucer was perfectly cool. He replaced the cup to the saucer, then placed both in Raoul's waiting hands. "Don't let it fall, and don't spill a single drop." The steely edge in his tone made the threat clear without him having to be specific. Raoul's imagination would do all the work for him.

"I won't, Papa."

Hamid nodded. He unfolded the newspaper and resumed reading as though Raoul weren't there.

He took his time, occasionally picking the cup up from the saucer and taking leisurely sips as he leafed through the paper. Raoul kept his hands perfectly level. Hamid didn't acknowledge him any more than he would an ordinary, inanimate table.

After a healthy amount of time, he allowed himself to sneak glances at the boy. Raoul's eyes were on level with Hamid's knees, but Hamid could tell he wasn't looking at anything in particular. He wore the same peaceful, yet also focused look he did whenever Hamid used him as furniture. After the first time he'd spent ten minutes on all fours with a full tea service balanced on his back, he'd told Hamid that he was surprised that instead of being bored and frustrated, he'd felt calm, his mind blank, worries melted away.

Raoul's lips were slightly parted, showing the slightest ridge of straight, white teeth. He couldn't help but stare at those soft, pink, almost girlish lips. Raoul had a beautiful mouth—irresistible.

He finished the last of his tea. Raoul's hands were trembling slightly. Hamid knew the strain of holding them up had to painful by this point. He casually took the saucer from Raoul's hands, then placed it and the cup on the tray. After a measured pause, he said, "You can put your arms down."

Raoul let out a deep breath. Moving stiffly, he lowered his arms to his sides. Hamid leaned down and gently took his left arm. He massaged the muscles that must have been cramping.

"You did very well, dearest." He cherished the sunshiney look of pride in Raoul's eyes. "Do you think that you should get a reward?"

He nodded. "Yes, Papa."

Hamid moved on to the other arm. "What reward would you like?"

"May I suck your cock, Papa?" This in a small, but quietly enthusiastic voice.

God, he had to be the luckiest man on earth.

He managed not to let his voice reflect his ecstatic inner reaction. "Yes. You've certainly earned it." He stood. Raoul shuffled back to get in position.

“Papa?”

“Yes, dear?” He planted his feet with his groin inches from Raoul's face.

Raoul put his hands on Hamid’s thighs. “You can be rough with me.”

Hamid knew that what he was saying was: _Be rough with me. Please._ He gently touched Raoul’s cheek. “Are you sure?” The request was a little odd, but Hamid still found it thrilling. He doubted that he would be able to control himself once those pillowy lips were around him. Just thinking about that perfect mouth had him pressing against the confines of his trousers.

Raoul nodded, his expression even eager. "That's alright, papa. You can do whatever you want to me."

 _Fuck_.

"Then get to work."

"Yes, papa." With deft, dexterous fingers, he unbuttoned Hamid's trousers, then pulled his half-hard cock out of the front of his drawers. He spit in his palm.

Hamid did groan the moment the fingers touched the hyper-sensitive flesh. Raoul stroked the shaft, first gently, then more quickly. Hamid was somehow always surprised to find calluses on his palms and fingers. He forgot that this seemingly delicate little thing was an experienced sailor. Raoul kissed and licked the head and down the length. Hamid grabbed a handful of Raoul's hair. Raoul got the message; he opened his mouth wide and took in as much of Hamid as he could.

Hamid groaned again as pleasure flooded through him. He put the hand that wasn't tugging on Raoul's hair on the back of his head. He moved him up and down, not letting him set the pace. Knowing what was expected of him, Raoul kept his hands clasped behind his back. At the same time, Hamid thrust forward, needing to get deeper into that wet, silky heat.

Raoul gagged as the cock hit the opening of his throat. Hamid was a terrible person for enjoying the wet, strangled sound that came from his convulsing throat.

"It's alright, dearest. Just swallow."

Raoul nodded. On Hamid's next thrust,  Raoul opened his throat to take him in deep.

"God..." Hamid moaned. He shoved even further into the tight channel of his throat, until Raoul's nose was buried in his public hair, his balls pressed against Raoul's chin.

Hamid held him there one second, two, three, until Raoul began trembling and gagged again. He pulled out to let Raoul gasp for breath. While Raoul caught his breath, Hamid smeared the head of his cock over his face, leaving wet streaks of precome and thick saliva. Probably a little before Raoul was fully ready, he pushed in again. "Swallow."

Raoul did as he was instructed, taking him in deep.

"Oh, God... Good boy. Very good. You're trying very hard for me, aren't you?" Palm close to Raoul's scalp, he tugged on his hair in just the way he knew drove the boy wild. He continued pumping in and out, increasingly fast and rough, easing off only when he could tell Raoul was about to retch.

(He'd been pleasantly surprised at how quickly Raoul took to sucking cock, even when Hamid got rough with him. Raoul joked that it was a side effect of learning to choke down whatever food was put in front of him while he was at sea).

Suddenly, Hamid felt his climax rushing in on him. He yanked Raoul back and jerked himself frantically in front of the flushed, shining face. Hamid threw back his head and let out a guttural moan. Raoul shut his eyes just in time as a stream of come hit his cheek.

When he looked down, he took in the sight of Raoul breathing heavily, Hamid's come dribbling down his rosy cheek. Hamid loved to see Raoul’s beautiful face dripping with his come. When Raoul was feeling generous, he would even let him shoot onto his hair. He would watch in fascination as the white droplets rolled over the silky, golden strands.

He let go of Raoul's hair and instead hooked his fingers under his chin, guiding his face up. "You're beautiful," he whispered, still catching his breath. "Did you enjoy your reward?"

"Yes, papa." Raoul's voice was understandably scratchy.

Hamid dropped to his knees. He gently cupped Raoul's flushed face in his hands. "I love you, dearest."

"I love you too."

Hamid kissed him lightly on the lips. Raoul leaned in to deepen the kiss, but Hamid managed to wrench himself away, ignoring Raoul's little whine. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, spit on it, then set to wiping his face clean. The corners of Raoul's mouth lifted in a smile as his skin was stroked.

"Good boy. You did so well for me. What a lucky man I am." He loved showering praise on Raoul. After some rough play, the boy was relaxed and more receptive than he usually was to accepting compliments. Raoul deserved to be treated well, like a treasure. As odd as it may have seemed on the surface, hurting him, ordering him around, fucking him roughly—on the terms they were both comfortable with—was the best way to show him that adoration.

"Thank you, papa."

Hamid smoothed down his tangled hair. "How long can you stay?"

"Philippe is busy all day. I can stay as long as I want. As long as you want me here."

"I want you here as long as I can keep you. Always." He gave him another soft kiss. "You look so pretty covered in my come." The words had the predicted effect on Raoul, sending a shiver over him and his eyelids fluttering shut. “I’m going to take you up to my bedroom. Would you like that, dearest?”

Raoul nodded. He leaned in for a kiss, and this time Hamid obliged him. He took Raoul’s face in his hands and kissed him, gently sliding his tongue between his lips. At the same time, he snaked a hand between his legs and fondled the bulge in his trousers. Raoul groaned against his lips.

Hamid allowed him only a few strokes through the heavy fabric before standing. He took Raoul’s hand and helped him to his feet. He led him out of the sitting room and toward the stairs. Raoul was in that quiet, pliant state he reached when they were in the midst of their play. However, as they went further up, Hamid could detect flickers of distraction on his face. He would need to address that.

He had Raoul enter the room before him. He stood where he had been placed, while Hamid shut the door behind them. When he turned back, Raoul’s shoulders were slumped and he was worrying his shirt cuffs. His gaze was downcast, Hamid thought less out of deference than worry.  

Hamid crossed the room and stood close enough to tower over him. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Raoul hesitated, chewing his lip. Finally, he said without looking up, “I want you to hit me.”

Hamid raised an eyebrow. He tried to keep his surprise muted. “Hit you?”

“I want you to spank me, papa. Please.”

Under any other circumstances, those words would have sent heat straight to his groin, making him want to throw the boy over his knee that second. In this instance, Hamid was too bothered by the absence of playful enthusiasm in the request. “Why? Have you been bad?”

“Yes.”

He took Raoul’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted his face up. “Look at me. What did you do?

Raoul looked miserable. “I got into an argument with Philippe.”

 _That’s hardly anything that bad_ , Hamid thought. He didn’t voice the dismissive thought, though. “What argument? Come here.”

Raoul rested his head on Hamid’s chest. “He says I need to put myself out more. That I need to go out more and… I don’t know. Do society things. He wants me to start courting Aimée. He says a gentleman needs to learn about women. He says that I should have an affair with Christine. _Christine_ ,” he repeated incredulously. Raoul had expressed to Hamid that the young soprano was like a sister to him, and it was obvious in the way the two interacted. He shook his head. “He keeps saying all of that, all the time, and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I told him to stop telling me what to do. We started yelling at each other, then I stormed off. We didn’t talk to each other since before he left Paris on business.”

“And you feel guilty.”

He nodded. “I know he’s just trying to do what he thinks is best for me. But, he just doesn’t understand.”

Hamid almost could have smiled. Not being understood: the rallying call of all youth. Raoul did have a point, though. The Comte de Chagny likely wouldn’t understand what lay in his brother’s heart. He couldn’t have even imagined what Raoul was doing instead of immersing himself in the formalities of high society.

“Well, if you feel like this, clearly the solution is to apologize as soon as you see him again and tell him what you just told me. Well, maybe don’t tell him that he doesn’t understand you, but let him know that you understand that he has your interests at heart and that you know he’s not just being a bully. I know at least it will make you feel better.”

Raoul nodded slowly. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll tell him.”

For a few moments, Hamid just rubbed his back, while Raoul breathed. “Do you still want a punishment?”

He nodded once again. “Please.”

Hamid knew that Raoul carried around worries, anxieties, and doubts that were difficult to dislodge. He picked them up like burrs on a dog’s fur. Punishments—a slap, a spanking, even withholding climaxing for days—worked them out, let him lay them aside without guilt. Hamid never raised a hand to him out of anger, only when he knew Raoul needed it to make him feel better.

“All right.” Hamid stepped backwards, then sat on the edge of the bed. “Get out of those clothes, then lie across my lap. Be quick.”

“Yes, papa. Thank you.” The return to the name made it clear Raoul had once again submerged himself in the safety of the game. He efficiently stripped out of his shirt, braces, shoes, trousers, stockings, and smallclothes. Hamid planted his feet firmly in front of him, making his thighs hard and level.

His eyes roamed over the splendid sight of Raoul’s naked body. His frame was lean, with hidden muscles moving under the pale skin. There was a smattering of fine, blond hair across his chest. His cock lay soft in the thatch of curls.

Hamid patted his thigh, reminding Raoul what was expected of him next. Raoul hurried over and got on the bed. He arranged himself over Hamid’s lap with his hip balanced on his thigh, ass in the air.

For a moment, Hamid allowed himself to just admire Raoul’s round, pert backside. He ran his hand over the soft, pale flesh. He gave a slightly-too-hard squeeze. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know.” His voice was small, even childish. “Whatever you think, Papa.”

“All right. I’ll give you fifteen; then I’ll know you’re sorry.”

“Thank you, papa.”

Hamid pulled his hand back and hit his cheek with full force, producing a resounding smack. He knew Raoul didn’t want him holding back today—he’d know if Hamid was and wouldn’t walk away feeling satisfied that he was fully absolved.

Raoul gave a full-body jerk and bit back a grunt. Hamid didn’t give him time to prepare before spanking him again. And again.

He kept the rhythm of blows irregular, switching between cheeks, hard. He watched as the pale skin turned angry red, his handprints clearly imprinted in white for a moment before they faded back into the scarlet canvas. Raoul let out sharp yelps at every blow. He clutched the bedsheets in a white-knuckle grip, but was well-trained enough not to try to squirm away.

 _Thirteen. Fourteen_ , he counted to himself. _Fifteen. Done._

Hamid placed his sore hand on Raoul’s back and rubbed gently. “It’s over, dearest. All done. You did so well. You can get up now, darling.”

Shaking from head to toe, Raoul got to his feet. Hamid put a steadying arm around his waist. “Now lay down on your side and put your head in my lap.”

Hamid helped him take the position he described: one that wouldn’t irritate his abused backside. He crossed his legs to make a pillow for Raoul’s head. He stroked Raoul’s hair as he smiled down at him. “My darling boy, you were very brave for me.”

“Thank you, papa,” Raoul said. His eyes were shut as he snuggled into Hamid’s stomach

Hamid kissed his cheek. “Do you feel better?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

For a moment, they just lay together in peaceful silence, Hamid enjoying the heat and weight of Raoul’s body against his. Eventually, though, he became aware of the way Raoul was moving his legs, rubbing his thighs together. Hamid trailed his hand down and found Raoul’s cock half-hard between his legs.

“I see you enjoyed your punishment.”

Raoul’s hips jerked forward, searching for more contact. Hamid denied him, moving his hand to Raoul’s thigh and stroking the hot flesh.

“Tell me what you want, dearest.”

“I want…” Raoul began between harsh breaths. Hamid heard some of the old but persistent shyness in the way he hesitated and trailed off.

“You have to tell me what you want, or you won’t get anything.” He briefly, very gently cupped Raoul’s balls, but quickly moved back to stroking his thigh, provoking a sharp gasp from Raoul.

“I want you to fuck me, papa.”

“What was that?” Hamid asked, as if he hadn’t heard the quiet voice.

“I want you to fuck me, papa.” This in an unabashedly clear, desperate tone.

“Good boy,” Hamid whispered in his ear. He rewarded him by lightly stroking the length of his cock with just his fingertips, while he took his earlobe between his teeth. Raoul’s sigh was music to his ears. Likely far too soon for the boy’s liking, he broke the contact. “You’ll have to earn it first by helping your papa.”

“Yes, papa. Please, papa. Whatever you want.”

“I need to leave for just a few minutes. Can you be alone for a little while?” He didn’t want to leave Raoul too wrapped up in his own head, still stewing in his negative feelings.

Raoul nodded. “Yes, papa.”

Hamid smoothed his hair and kissed his cheek. “Good boy. Call out if you need me. I’ll be there in a flash.”

“Thank you, papa.”

He twisted his head at an awkward angle to kiss Raoul’s mouth, then got to his feet, careful not to jostle Raoul too much. On his way out, he roughly squeezed Raoul’s reddened ass, relishing the grunt he provoked.

The washroom was nearby. With the door shut, he stripped off his clothes while he filled the sink with water. He quickly but thoroughly cleaned his body with a washcloth. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of what was waiting for him in the other room.

He would never have imagined that they would reach this point when he first took Raoul to his bed a year ago. He had always been gentle to a fault with Raoul: the shy, blushing virgin, still wracked with guilt at the thought he was living in sin, disappointing society and betraying his family’s honor. Hamid had showered him with love and praise and assurances that he was anything but sick or broken. He’d treasured getting to see his lover grow happy and at ease.

The games had started slowly. Raoul liked Hamid to pull his hair and gently bite his neck and chest. There were playful slaps to his backside and cheeks. Soon after Hamid had first fucked him, after weeks of gentle preparation, Raoul started asking him to fuck him harder and faster, to pull and bite more roughly. Hamid worried he would run away when he saw the bruises littering his body. Instead, he seemed fascinated. It didn’t stop him from asking, _begging_ , Hamid for more.

He started to give him little orders. ”Stay there.” “Don’t move.” “Get on your knees.” “Don’t come until I tell you.” He made sure that Raoul knew he could refuse anything at any moment, but Raoul seemed eager to play along. Hamid occasionally called him “boy,” along with many other names in French and Farsi: “dearest,” “love,” “ātashé del-am,” “jeegar-am…”

The final piece had fallen into place one night when Raoul had murmured, “I love you, papa,” as he was curled up in Hamid’s arms.

The moment of silence sent a look of panic shooting across Raoul’s face. “I’m sorry,” he had said quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I don’t know why I said that. I—”

Hamid had touched his cheek. “It’s all right, dearest. I don’t mind.” He had paused, letting his fingertips linger on Raoul’s cheek, reddening with embarrassment. “If you wanted to say it again, I wouldn’t stop you. My darling boy.”

Raoul’s anxious expression had slowly relaxed into a smile. He’d nuzzled into Hamid’s hand and shut his eyes. “Thank you.” After a moment, he’d added, “Thank you, Papa.”

Hamid knew that Raoul’s father had died when he was child and had been a distant presence before that. He very much doubted that Raoul was actually attracted to his father. Likely, to him the role just represented a source of authority, approval, and security—all things that Hamid hoped he could give to his lover. In the end, though, it didn’t really matter why it worked for him. Raoul didn’t seem to feel the need to analyze it, and it certainly didn’t upset him.

And Hamid would do anything to make his boy happy.

When he walked back into the room, Raoul was sitting with his legs tucked under him, back straight, hands folded on his thighs, the picture of obedience. He looked up at Hamid with bright, eager eyes.

Hamid smiled. His gaze drifted down to Raoul’s half-hard cock. “Have you touched yourself?”

“No, papa.”

“Good. You aren’t to until I give you permission.”

At a gesture from Hamid, Raoul moved aside to make room for him on the bed. Hamid arranged himself with his head on the pillows and his legs spread. He put one of the pillows under him, raising up his hips. Raoul knelt between his legs and reached for his soft cock, opening his mouth in anticipation. Hamid put a hand on Raoul’s head and pushed him further down. Raoul quickly understood what was being asked of him. He spread Hamid’s cheeks and started licking.

Raoul, the inexperienced, genteel virgin, had initially been disgusted by just the idea of this act. Of course, Hamid had respected his aversion. Eventually, though, curiosity got the better of Raoul, first receiving and then, after some gentle coaxing, giving. By now he was talented and eager for it.

Hamid guided one of Raoul’s hands up to his cock. He took the hint and started stroking him. Hamid let out a soft groan, which only seemed to encourage Raoul.

If he had been Raoul’s age he could have already been hard and ready for more; at his age, though, it took more time and effort. And this _certainly_ helped.

He noticed Raoul grinding into the blankets and tugged roughly on his hair. “Careful,” he warned. “If you finish before I give you permission, you won’t be getting anything tonight. You don’t want that do you?” Raoul whimpered as his hips stopped moving

Smiling fondly, Hamid petted the silky hair he had just been pulling. “Good boy,” he sighed. Warmth coiled in his chest as his heart sped up. “Oh, yes. That's good. You're doing so well. I'm so proud of you.” The words of praise tumbled out of him. In a moment like this, with Raoul’s golden head bobbing between his legs, with Raoul totally at his mercy, with total trust in him, _his_ in every way, he didn’t know what he had done to deserve it all.

Between Raoul’s nimble fingers and his hot, lapping tongue, it took far less time for his cock to harden again than he thought it would. Sometimes it seemed as if Raoul’s youthful vigor wore off on him. He yanked Raoul’s head back. “What a talented boy you are. You work so hard for your papa, don’t you?” Raoul smiled faintly, his cheeks pink and eyes glassy. Abruptly, Hamid changed his tone to one of command as he sat up. “Hands and knees. Quickly.”

Raoul scrambled to obey. He moved to the spot where Hamid had been and arranged himself on all fours, with his ass on display. Hamid pressed on the small of his back. Raoul took the cue to arch his spine, pushing his rear up and into better view. Hamid ran his hands over the soft, sensitive flesh, first gently stroking, then squeezing hard, provoking a hiss of pain.

“How pretty my boy is,” he purred.

Raoul moaned, thrusting into the empty air. His cock hung painfully hard between his trembling legs. Hamid was proud of him for resisting the urge to touch himself, as much as he must have desperately wanted to. He teased him with a quick, barely-there stroke.

“God!” Raoul gasped.

Hamid smiled. Even in the heat of passion, Raoul was too much of a good little gentleman to curse properly unless Hamid coaxed it out of him. He stretched out to take a vial of oil from the bedside table, without moving too far away.

“If you want anything more you’ll have to earn it.” A whim struck him, and he spoke in a softer voice. “Would it be alright if I tied your hands behind your back? Or are they still sore from earlier?”

“They’re still pretty stiff,” Raoul answered. “I’m sorry.”

“You never have to apologize for being honest with me, dearest.” He bent to kiss Raoul’s back. “There is nothing more precious to me than to know I have your trust.” He punctuated every few words with another kiss. “You can make it up to me next time. I’ll truss you up to my bed so you can’t move an inch, then fuck you until you can’t walk straight.” He caught a bit of skin between his teeth and just barely bit. “Would you enjoy that?”

Raoul moaned and humped the air again, seemingly unconsciously.

Grinning, Hamid finished off with a nip, a kiss, then a light spank. “Stay still, my dear,” he said as he coated his fingers with oil.

Raoul was gasping and shuddering with need when Hamid finally pressed a finger against his entrance. “Oh, God!”

“Do you like that, darling?” He pushed his index finger in just barely to the first knuckle.

“Yes, papa.”

“Good boy.”

Hamid carefully stretched Raoul open, tormenting him with the occasional quick, light stroke of his cock.

At some point, Raoul’s arms collapsed under him, and he fell onto his elbows, clutching the pillows in a white-knuckle grip. From the stream of inarticulate groans and whines, Hamid made out the desperate yelp, “Please, papa!”

Hamid continued working the two fingers deep inside him and squeezed the base of his cock. “Hold on, dearest. I know you can do it.”

Raoul’s sigh rattled through his whole body. Hamid favored him with another kiss on his back.

He stopped fingering Raoul to make sure his cock was dripping wet with oil. “Are you ready?”

Raoul nodded frantically. “Please…”

Hamid smiled as he pushed inside.

“Ah—ah!”

“Good boy, good boy. You’re doing so well. So well for me.”

“Hamid…!” Raoul groaned as he tensed and arched his back down.

He didn’t know exactly what specifically led Raoul to revert to using his proper name in the heat of the moment, but Hamid always enjoyed it. He felt like he’d absolutely overwhelmed the boy.

He paused when he was fully buried inside him, feeling Raoul quiver beneath him. “Alright?” he whispered, his own voice shaking. He leaned forward to drape himself over Raoul, wrapping his arms around his chest. He kissed Raoul’s back as he gave an experimental thrust.

“Yes.” The word came out a low, breathy gasp. When Hamid thrust again, he let out a short grunt, he didn’t know whether out of pleasure, discomfort, or some combination of the two.

“Shh. Shh, I’ve got you.” He dragged his lips over the sweat-slick skin. He slowly, carefully rolled his hips, letting Raoul adjust. On some days he would simply throw Raoul down on the bed and pound into him, quick and brutal, to Raoul’s delight. Today, though, he was going to take his time. He moved to the nape of Raoul’s neck, nuzzling his nose in the soft hair.

“Yes. Yes, papa, please, oh, God! Please...”

Hamid smiled. He set a steady pace, going slow and deep. Raoul was quivering from head to toe, breathing in gasps and pants. He pushed back against Hamid, desperate for more.

“Please...”

“What do you want, dearest?”

“Please, papa…” Hamid wondered if Raoul even knew what he was pleading for. “Pull my hair, please.”

Hamid obliged—Raoul had been so well-behaved, after all. He threaded his fingers through the lovely hair and then tightened his grip. At the same time he kissed and sucked at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

He shut his eyes and lost himself the heady swirl of sensation: the tight heat enclosing his cock, the warm body beneath him, Raoul’s gasps and whimpers, the smell of him.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“Love you.” Raoul trembled and bit back a groan.

“Are you close?”

“Yes. Yes, God…” He shook his head. “I won't, though, papa. I promise. Not until you tell me to.”

“Good boy. “ He gently bit down on Raoul’s shoulder. As expected, it provoked a groan of pleasure from the boy. At the same time, he slipped a hand underneath them and gave him a few short strokes, just to make sure he kept him on the ragged edge of release. Raoul let out a sob as the hand was pulled away.

He kept Raoul on edge, nuzzling, biting, pulling, and teasing with barely-there touches as he fucked him with slow, deep thrusts.

They’d found ways to work around the differences age made in bed, in particular how Raoul could come almost at a word, while Hamid took more effort to reach his climax. Hamid could focus all of his attention on slowly pleasuring the younger man. Or make him come as many times as possible, until Raoul was a boneless puddle in his arms as he fucked him.

Other times, he would do this: challenging him to hold off until Hamid reached his own orgasm at a much more leisurely pace.

Raoul shuddered beneath him, beautifully responsive to ever touch and thrust. Hamid relished every gasp, groan, and whine, especially when it came after he pulled his hand away, leaving him uselessly humping the air, desperately looking for stimulation that wasn't there.

He was stroking Raoul's painfully hard cock with one hand, digging fingernails into his hips, and burying his face in the mess of his hair, when Raoul abruptly cried out and tried to squirm away.

“Please, please, stop! Check!”

Hamid instantly took his hands off of Raoul and stopped moving. Raoul had called the word they used to indicate that they needed to pause the game; not to end it (“full stop”), but to check in. “What’s wrong, Raoul? What do you need?”

Raoul shook his head, panting as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m fine. I just… I was about to... and I didn't want… You told me not to… I don't want…”

“It's alright. You're alright. Shh.” He rubbed calming circles into his back. “Do you want to stop?”

He shook his head again, the curtain of hair swaying. “No. Please keep going. Please papa.” He flung an arm back clumsily to grab at Hamid’s hip, as if he could push the other man further into him.

“Anything you desire, dearest.” Hamid started fucking him again. He trusted Raoul would stay hard from just that, without any further teasing. “I'm so proud of you. My sweet, sweet boy.”

He kissed his neck and back tenderly. When Raoul was moaning and pressing back against him he treated him with more bites.

His climax crept up slowly, energy swelling in his stomach and coursing through him. When he felt himself teetering at the peak, he quickly pulled out—even though a part of him longed to be back in that wonderful heat—and pushed his body forward to come on Raoul's back.

His brain had to revert back to Farsi to find a expletive that expressed the pleasure that shuddered through him. He felt it from his fingertips to his toes.

He opened his eyes to watch the last few dribbles of come hit Raoul's skin. He wished he could ejaculate as much as he could when he was younger, so he could better paint Raoul's body.

As he caught his breath he surveyed the damage he'd done to Raoul's back: imprints of teeth almost breaking the skin and red marks that would turn into deep purple bruises within the next few days. The red contrasted beautifully with the white of Hamid's seed.

He massaged Raoul’s waist in slow, comforting circles. “You did very well, dearest. You were so well-behaved for me. I'm very proud of you, my darling boy.”

Raoul half-mumbled, half-whimpered something that might have been a “thank you.”

Hamid shuffled a little further down the bed. “Get onto your back, dearest.”

Slowly, trembling, Raoul followed instructions. He flopped back onto the bed like a sack of flour, his arms splayed out by his head. His chest heaved.

Hamid greedily raked his eyes over the body before him. The pale skin of his face, neck, chest, and thighs, and thighs were flushed. His hair was a mess, his cheeks bright pink. His pupils were dilated, leaving only a thin rim of blue visible.

His cock was painfully hard, flush against his stomach, the head red with the need for release. Hamid was impressed with his willpower in resisting the urge to just rub himself to orgasm on the bed sheets while he was being fucked.

He placed a fingertip to the tip of the cock. Raoul's hips jerked at the slight contact. Hamid smiled. “You could come this second if I gave you permission, couldn't you, my beautiful boy?” He pressed harder.

Raoul nodded frantically. His eyes were screwed shut and he was squeezing the pillows in a death grip.

“Just a little longer, don't worry.” Hamid removed his finger, only to lean forward and take one of Raoul's nipples into his mouth. He teased the hard bud with his tongue as he rolled the other between his fingers. He pinched hard at the same time as he let Raoul just barely feel his teeth. Raoul responded beautifully, gasping and straining. Hamid held him down with a hand pressed to his stomach as he switched his mouth and fingers.

“Good boy,” he said once he pulled away, only to lavish kisses and nips over Raoul's neck and collarbone.

“Papa, please!”

“Please what?”

“Please let me come, papa.”

Hamid couldn't have asked for a sweeter note of helpless desperation in the high, strained voice. “How could I deny such a polite boy?”

He slid down Raoul's body, trailing his tongue over the hot, sweaty skin. He settled himself between Raoul's legs and took hold of his hips. “I’ll squeeze when you're allowed to come. Like this.” He squeezed his hips tight, digging his fingernails brutally into the soft flesh. “Do you understand?”

Raoul thrashed his head up and down. “Yes. Oh, God, yes, please, yes!”

Hamid took Raoul's cock in his hand, lazily stroking from base to tip. He carefully pulled Raoul’s foreskin over the head and then back again. That had been a fascinating novelty at first, something he hadn’t encountered with the men he’d taken to bed in Iran. It had been a thrill to explore how manipulating the delicate, sensitive skin could drive Raoul mad.

“Oh, God, oh, God!” Raoul was trembling, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat. He had one arm thrown over his face and the other clutching the pillow in a death grip.

As fun as it was, he wasn't going to tease Raoul any more at the moment. He'd been well-behaved to a fault and he deserved his reward. Hamid took his cock into his mouth. Raoul let out a wordless, body-rattling groan. 

He used his hands and tongue, while Raoul trembled and moaned. Hamid continued to appreciate just how good of a job he was doing holding back. Finally, he decided Raoul had more than earned his reward. He took his hands from the base of Raoul's cock to grasp his hips and squeeze hard.

"Yes!" Raoul's hips would have jerked up, if Hamid hadn't been holding them down, as he came into Hamid's mouth. "Papa, papa...!" 

Hamid rubbed soothing circles with his thumbs in the hollows of Raoul's hips, as he swallowed the thick stream of come. Unfortunately, Raoul's head was thrown back, so Hamid couldn't make out his expression from this awkward angle. He continued sucking until he thought Raoul must be getting over-sensitive, then let the softening cock slip from his lips.

He slid back up to lay beside him. Raoul immediately rolled over and snuggled his face into Hamid's chest.

Hamid held him close, rubbing his back. "You did so well, dearest. I'm so proud of you. I love you."

"I love you," Raoul mumbled sleepily. He wrapped his arms around Hamid's chest and hugged him tightly, while draping one leg over Hamid's, making absolutely certain the other man wouldn't leave the bed. Hamid had no intention of doing so.

Hamid kissed and stroked his hair. "My beautiful, darling boy. So lovely, so sweet." He eased Raoul's face up to lazily kiss him.

"I love you, papa," he said, voice slurring. He nuzzled into Hamid's neck. "Is it alright if I take a nap?"

Hamid might have commented on how of the two of them it was the twenty-two year old who was ready to pass out right after sex; but, then, Raoul had been on a more emotional ride. And, in any case, Hamid treasured the opportunity to watch Raoul fall asleep at his side. "Of course, dearest. I'll be here when you wake up."

Raoul mumbled something that might have been, "Thank you." He seemed to be asleep within a minute.

Hamid continued to pet his hair. When he was sure his lover was soundly asleep, he kissed the crown of his head. "My dearest boy," he murmured. He shut his eyes and gave into his own sated lassitude. 

He felt equal parts protector and protected; safe by virtue of keeping his boy safe.  _His_ boy, to love and care for. Center, and be centered. Always.

 


End file.
